In the depth of my soul, a thought, a look or a cat's tail conjure a beloved face, a special event, a human being. I carefully hide them and keep them as pieces of precious glass that I take out only for a special moment.
I was born on 17th March 1971 in Varazdin. I grew up on the right Drava river bank, and with its flow were pouring in grand-ma's stories and legends about Palunk and Triton, the water spirit. Under this spell I walked over scattered grains of life. Some of the grains I collected and buried them just below the surface under the husk of their own core. To dig them out, I rake them out one after the other and softly put them back on silver surfaces of various shapes, all made in goldsmith's techniques and intertwined with thousands of colourful glass beads. Just as miniature statues and silver illustrations with strings of glass beads and in replicas of antique glass. Silver because it is the metal of a woman's soul; glass because it has been forgotten and because its fragility speaks of the ephemeral passing; jewellery because in its basis it is not an ornament.